


my love for him kills any anger

by nicolorenaldigenovia



Series: my love, we still have much we can learn [2]
Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Andy adores Nicky and Joe, Angst, Found Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Immortal Husbands Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Joe talks about Keane Killing Nicky, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani is an Incurable Romantic, M/M, Mild Gore, Panic Attacks, Past Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani, Sequel, Trauma, discussion of sexual violence, kaysanova
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:54:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25738393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nicolorenaldigenovia/pseuds/nicolorenaldigenovia
Summary: sequel to'do not let me awake alone'A month later, Andy finds out that Nicky is talking to Booker.But it doesn’t mean that Joe forgives him. Far from it. They've been through so much for him to just let it go.---now with sequel:'a blessing from above'
Relationships: Andy | Andromache of Scythia & Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Series: my love, we still have much we can learn [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1872499
Comments: 19
Kudos: 616





	my love for him kills any anger

**Author's Note:**

> I cannot stop writing about The Old Guard. 
> 
> Also I needed more of Andy and Joe's relationship, especially after that hug and greeting when they see each other again. The fact that 'Andy | Andromache of Scythia & Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani' was not an automatic tag tells me that this needs to be explored. 
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who's read the first part and for telling me what you think!

“Never thought you’d be the one to break.”

Joe pauses, glancing at Andy as he prepares a meal for the both of them in the kitchen. She’s looking at him, nursing a cup of coffee slowly, her eyes bright and curious. Curious is a good look on Andy. It’s been so long since he’s seen it.

Of course, Andy knows. Nothing ever gets past this woman. If anything, her mortality makes her even more dangerous, because suddenly she was a woman with everything to lose, after a near have millennia of not caring what makes her heart soar anymore. There’s something different about her now, like she cares more, and Joe likes it.

Even if she is _such_ a pain in the ass.

“I don’t know what you mean, Boss,” Joe mutters, continuing with plating their food, and bringing the dishes to the table.

Andy raises an eyebrow and shakes her head, putting down her cup and leaning back to stare at him. Joe pointedly looks at his plate, pays attention to his eggs and tomatoes and piece of rye bread, and he hears Andy pick up her drink, dragging the bottom against the wood, and _fuck_.

“You know, you can be _so annoying_ ,” Joe mutters, finally looking up to find Andy smirking, sipping her drink loudly.

When she pulls back, she swallows slowly and deliberately, staring right into his eyes. “I don’t know what you mean,” she mutters with a lazy shrug and Joe loves and hates her for it.

Joe picks up his fork and stabs his eggs, glaring at her and she meets his gaze with narrowed eyes.

“Boss, what do you mean?” he asks instead, because he just wants to eat his eggs, and be done with breakfast because being done with this meal means they’re closer to lunch which is when Nicky and Nile are coming home from a morning excursion. He wasn’t really a fan of letting Nicky out of his sight, but Nile had been so excited, telling Joe of all the things that Nicky said they were going to do, and this was the first of many planned trips. And damn it, he has a soft spot of the young woman already, and she makes Nicky’s eyes shine.

And these days, he’ll take anything that’ll make Nicky happy.

Andy’s eyes soften, and she puts her cup down, finally eating his hard work.

“Booker,” she says, before shoving eggs and a piece of bread in her mouth. As elegant as she can look if she wanted, when she’s relaxed and satisfied, she’s anything but, and Joe cherishes every moment of it. “I heard him on the phone last night,” she mutters.

“It’s a monthly thing,” Joe says automatically, flinching a little when he remembers that it’s been a month. It’s been a month and 2 days since they got to Paris, and two weeks before that, they lost Booker and Joe allowed himself to be so angry about it.

It’s been two months since Nicky shot himself and thought that he was going to leave him. In their almost thousand years together, Joe can honestly say he’s never thought of ever walking away from Nicky since he stopped killing him, and started to memorize his face, and the colour of his eyes so that he’ll always see it in a crowd of carnage and blood.

“Is it now?” Andy whispers and Joe sighs, glancing at her. She doesn’t look upset. She doesn’t look like anything really, just chewing her food and taking a swig of her last coffee. Joe stands then, grabs her cup and refills it, before setting it back down.

“Thank you,” she mutters around another mouthful and Joe snorts as she takes a quick sip.

“You can die now, Andy. Can’t have you choking,” he says and he feels like he’s gasping the words out even though he’s trying so hard to be funny about it.

Andy snorts, and smirks at him. “You got my six, always. You’ll make sure I don’t,” she says with such amazing amount of confidence that it makes Joe’s heart soar.

“You’re right, boss,” he mutters as he sits down. The woman turns to him again, raising an eyebrow and waving a lazy hand.

“Monthly thing?” she asks, and Joe shrugs, the whole conversation making him itch. He sighs into his eggs, and glances up at her.

“S’what Nicky told me,” he whispers, after a moment. Nicky called Booker immediately, and Joe expected nothing less. What made his heart stutter a little though was how much Nicky looked when he walked back into the room to grab him for breakfast.

He was dressed since he left, but still on the phone, gentle smile on his face, quick Italian escaping his lips. His love had been listing a series of books, writing it down in the sheet of paper that Booker’s contact information is on. Joe sat with him, and Nicky leaned into his touch. He sits there for a good five minutes before Nicky ends the call, promising to call in a month.

“Be kind to yourself Booker,” Nicky said, just before hanging up and Joe heard the man laughing weakly on the other line just before it clicked. Then Nicky smiled at Joe then.

“We’re going to read together,” he said simply, folding the sheet of paper carefully, already grabbing the book he had been reading since London. At least, the book he had been pretending to read when Joe was too busy being angry with him and hurting him. He tucked the paper on the front page and it hurt Joe to see that yeah, he was starting the book over.

“He’s going to read that with you?” Joe had muttered, kissing his temple. Nicky glanced at him and nodded, leaning in for a kiss, but then said nothing else, grabbing his hand, asking about breakfast.

“That’s all?”

Joe blinks, and looks at Andy who’s tilting her head sideways in curiosity. It’d be adorable, if he didn’t know she can kill him with every item within reach.

“That’s all,” he whispers honestly, before getting back to his breakfast. Truly, that’s all.

Since it happened, Joe had been nervous, careful. So much more careful to show his affection and love towards Nicky, who revels in it. At least, that’s what he hopes as the man leans into his every touch, in such a way he hasn’t since they stopped killing each other. It hurts to know that he’s starved the man enough that he chases it. Like Joe would ever leave him without his love again.

And he thought that. Nicky really did think that he’s leaving him and that makes Joe hurt like no other.

“He thought I was going to leave him, boss,” Joe whispers, and honestly, he was past easy tears, but he’s not because suddenly, there’s drops on his hand as he bows his head, his shoulders shaking.

The love of his life thought he was going to leave. He left and hurt Nicky enough that the man thought that he was honestly going to walk away from him, after almost a thousand years of following every step, and being by his side. Joe wraps his arms around himself and shivers at the mere thought of doing what he’s accused and he cannot stomach it.

He hears Andy’s chair moving, and when he blinks, Andy’s gone and there’s a hand on his shoulder and he glances to see Andy pulling the seat closes to him and settling down. Then she’s pulling him towards her, and Joe slides sideways to meet her, laying his head on her shoulder.

“You’re such a big baby,” Andy whispers, and Joe laughs, wiping at his eyes, and blinking owlishly when she runs her hands through his curls.

And she’s gentle, loving almost. It’s rare, for Andy to be like this, and mostly, it’s him doing it to her, or Nicky. But she is capable of being affectionate, loving and kind. And he’s one of the few lucky ones to see it.

“When you’re hurt, and your mind unkindly thinks of a reason why, it’s hard to shake it off,” Andy whispers, holding him still. “He was hurt, when you were angry.”

“I know,” he moans out. “But I could not see how much I’ve hurt him. That he…what if he didn’t wake?”

Andy pauses.

Fuck.

“He hurt himself?” Andy whispers and Joe closes his eyes. They kept it to themselves, what had happened. After Nicky fell asleep, Joe went to the bathroom and cleaned it up himself, as quietly and quickly as he could.

Joe felt sick, while doing it, washing away the blood and the bits of skin, knowing fully well that it was all Nicky by his own hand. But he cleaned it all until there was no trace of it, because he deserved it. He deserved having to sit in the consequences of his doing.

It was his penance. And it still wasn’t enough.

Joe merely nods, tears in his eyes, and doesn’t offer anything else. Andy lets out a shaky sigh, and her hands are carding through his curls again.

“He’s allowed to hurt,” Andy whispers.

“But not by _my_ doing!” Joe hisses, clutching his own arms tighter, gritting his teeth. “Not to the point that he dies by his own hand! Not by my reckless actions, not by me being angry and infuriated because of another person’s transgression that had nothing to do with Nicky, and yet I still took it out on my soul! He’s my soul, Andy, and for him to think that I’d ever part from him…it means I’ve failed him.”

Andy holds him tighter then. “Stop,” she whispers, and it’s firm, and it makes him look up at her.

“It’s done. He’s hurt, and you hurt him. It’s done. We, of all people in this forsaken earth, cannot dwell on the past,” she says, and she’s reaching for his face and wiping at his tears with her bare hand, shaking her head.

“Fuck, I can’t take it when you’re like this,” Andy whispers, and she’s leaning in, pressing her forehead against his, and it’s a familiar action. One between comrades, and family, and it warms Joe’s heart that Andy extends this to him, and has been extending this to him ever since they’ve met and gotten close.

“You love me still,” Joe whimpers out, and Andy laughs against him, her hand firm at the back of his neck, squeezing. Then she pulls away, looking up at him, and he meets her gaze.

“You will get through this. Both of you. He’s hurt, and he’s made it clear. He told you, right? You talked about it?” she asks, and Joe nods, remembering that night and it still makes him burn in shame.

“He didn’t pull back,” Joe whispers, and he’s sobbing. “He told me how alone he felt, how lonely and how his grief made him feel like he had no one, when I’m right here,” he whispers.

“But you weren’t,” Andy says and Joe flinches then, and she sighs.

“Joe…you didn’t talk to him. For two weeks. That much was clear. After losing Booker, that’s definitely taken its toll. You know he feels guilty,” she says and Joe sighs.

“He always feels guilty,” Joe mutters, and Andy snorts.

“He’s Catholic,” she says with a shrug, sitting back and taking his hands and squeezing it.

“Your hands shake like Nicky’s when you’re upset,” Andy says, and it’s almost unconsciously, like an observation that she’s seen before. The statement makes him weep, and he sniffles, more tears coming unbidden.

And he feels no shame in it. He’ll cry for Nicky forever. It’ll be his penance. The man may have forgiven him, like the amazing man that he is, but he hasn’t forgiven himself for driving Nicky into suicide.

What if fate wanted to punish him and take Nicky away? He can’t imagine what he’d do if he came back to Nicky dead, after leaving him so angry and disappointed.

Fucking Booker, seriously.

If it weren’t for his selfishness, they wouldn’t be here. And he had to bring everyone down. Because of him, his Nicky was hurt, again and again.

“So I guess that doesn’t mean you forgive Booker, huh?”

Joe blinks, looking up at Andy and he frowns. “You said a hundred years,” he said slowly, after a pause.

Andy shrugs. “Between a sincere apology, quarter a century and forever, a 100 years felt like a good compromise,” she says, her voice soft and low. Joe’s heart drops a little.

“Boss…” he starts, and Andy shakes her head, putting a hand up.

“Answer the question, do you forgive him?”

Joe shakes his head. Of course he doesn’t forgive Booker. “You weren’t there, Andy,” he whispers, after a moment, and Andy squeezes his hands, thumbs gently running across his knuckles.

“You’re not there anymore,” she whispers, and he knows that to be true. He knows that for a fact, but they were. Just because they heal, it doesn’t mean that trauma doesn’t affect them.

“But we were…that whole place. I fucking hate that place. Merrick, Keane and his men, Dr. Kovak. They’re all fuckers and they all deserve—for what they,” Joe gasps out, and he’s looking at Andy, tears in his eyes.

“It’s just you and me,” she says and they’ve been here before. When they got Andy back after losing Quynh. Except, it was Joe, holding her together, telling that it’s just them, and she broke apart in his arms.

And he finds himself doing the same, his face crumpling, curling into himself. Andy moves closer then and pulls him in her arms fully, an he buries his face in her chest as he sobs, her arms going around her waist.

When he starts to scream wordlessly, Andy just tightens her arms around him, her gentle fingers back into his curls, stroking, hushing him softly. He starts to tell her how he hates Merrick, how he hates how sadistic he is, and what he did to hurt Nicky. What he did to hurt him.

“And th—the doctor,” Joe gasps, realization sinking in. “She—She cut Nicky open, cut parts of him, she—she sliced through his chest, his heart until it stopped. That monster, she’s alive Andy.” They have to do something about her. How could they let her live?

“Copley’s already on it, already trying to find her. We won’t let her do that again,” Andy hisses, having heard this for the first time. They’re not one for sharing, not really. They would meet, after years of being apart, fighting their own revolutions and battles and trauma and never share. Except when they get really bad. Like Quynh. Like today.

“She did that to my Nicky. And to me, again and again. I can’t remember how many times we died,” Joe whispers, clutching onto her tighter, his hands tight on the fabric of her shirt, pulling at it, and Andy just lets him, holding him just as close.

“It’s just you and me,” she repeats, grounding him to her. To this place, in Paris. Grounding him to their home.

But it’s not enough. He can still taste the gas that they kept using on them. The first time, and the last time. He coughed for hours after, the bitter smell and taste haunting him. The images behind the smoke as his lungs struggled against it all was almost too much.

“Just you and me,” Andy whispers again, and he knows he’s shaking then, breathing heavily and he knows he’s panicking. He takes a deep breath, forcing himself to take it all in, and the tears continue.

“Keane, that fucker, shot Nicky,” he whispers, pulling away from Andy, who nods, looking at him now, stroking his hair.

“So I heard,” she says, nodding and Joe almost forget that she witnessed him extracting his revenge.

“It’s not enough, me breaking his neck,” he mutters, gulping, narrowing his eyes, and Andy frowns.

“Joe?”

Andy pulls her hands away from him, and gently takes both of his hands again, squeezing them firmly. He looks down, shivering at the memory, of what he could see beyond the cloud of smoke that kept destroying his lungs at every gasp.

“His men hoped to ridicule us. Tamely. Childishly, but that was the plan,” he whispers, knowing that he doesn’t need to say more. Andy’s been at the many aftermaths of men, armies of men, who would discover their love and would mock, or even kill them for it.

Others had tried other acts, and there had been a number of close calls, but Joe had never allowed them to violate Nicky that way, and Nicky had done the same for him. As soon as they would say anything remotely suggesting such violation, they were on them. They fought like a mad and almost always succeeded.

And in the few times they nearly fell from the evils of mortal men who wanted to exercise their mockery over them through power and sexual violence, Andy was there to greet their necks with her ax.

No one ever got beyond words or a grip too tight.

“You killed them for it,” Andy mutters, and Joe nods, firmly.

“We did. Keane wasn’t there, but if his men were like that, of course the leader would be just as monstrous,” he whispers. “He witnessed us, after I headbutted Merrick. Seeking comfort where we could. I know he did. Because after he used that fucking gas again, after the explosion,” he pauses, shaking his head.

“You don’t have to say,” Andy says, and Joe knows she means it. But Joe’s already here, already seeing the action in a loop again and again, his own screams ringing in his ears.

“It was…purposeful. I know what he had meant to do. He grabbed Nicky by the hair and shoved the gun in his mouth before pulling the trigger,” Joe gasps out, and he looks up in time to find Andy’s eyes widening and she looks absolutely furious.

“You killed him,” Andy hisses. “You broke his fucking neck, Joe. He’s not coming back, he won’t do that to Nicky again.”

Joe nods weakly, gulping. Then he shakes his head, shakily letting go of Andy’s hands to wipe at his tears, remembering the affects. He had thought it was just after that night, when Nicky’s grief became too much and he wasn’t there to help him. But it still continues, to this day. Then there were the nightmares.

“He flinches, when I touch his hair. He still does,” he mutters, wiping his tears with the back of his hands, moving them only when Andy wipes his tears for him. “He wakes up gasping, and he flinches when I try to hold him, and he cries when he realizes it’s me,” Joe continues.

Then he looks up at Andy, his eyes sad.

“That’s why I can’t forgive Booker. If not for him, if not for his selfishness, this would have never happened,” he whispers, and Andy’s eyes soften then.

“He wanted an out, he wanted to die,” she whispers, and Joe scoffs.

“If he wanted to kill himself, he should’ve done it alone. Why did he feel the need to drag us with him? Why did he feel the need to sell us out to be tortured and slaughtered, again and again?” Joe growls, and the fury in him is lit once again.

“He didn’t suffer any of that. Booker didn’t get gassed and tortured by a woman with sanctimonious notions of saving the fucking world, he missed all of that fucking shit. It’s me and Nicky that suffered because he felt the need to make a decision for our family!” Joe yells, and he knows he’s yelling at the wrong person. As soon as the words escape him, he sighs, looking down.

“I’m sorry, Andy,” he mutters, and Andy shakes her head.

“If I thought you were out of line, I would’ve just shot you,” she says simply, with a shrug. “Booker fucked up. So he gets a hundred years. But if you don’t forgive him, and it’s clear that you don’t, why contact him and connect him with Nicky? I know you’ve had to contact him.”

Joe snorts, remembering, and shaking his head, wiping at his tears. Andy stands then, and goes to the refrigerator and grabs him a bottle of water, and he opens it, taking a quick swig.

“Yeah I did,” he says, after a moment. “I called him, and he was drunk. I told him fuck you, I don’t care what he has to say, and I’m doing it for Nicky. Then I told him to give me his address and phone number and I hung up as soon as he did.”

Andy laughs softly, shaking her head.

“And he gave it? Wow,” she says, sighing. “Must’ve been desperate,” she adds, after a second and the sadness in her voice is clear.

“You chose a hundred years,” Joe whispers, and Andy gives him a side-eye.

“And you wanted forever,” she throws back, and Joe puts his hands up.

“I would’ve gone with whatever you said, whether or not I agreed to it,” he admits. He’ll always trust Andy and her calls, no matter what. He’ll get over it, eventually.

Eventually just tends to get a bit longer when it involves Nicky.

Andy gives him a look, and then shrugs. “If I change my mind, I’ll be sure to let you all know,” she says, smirking. “Maybe when I’m old enough for a wheelchair, I’ll cut it back so I can do another bet with him, and rob you and Nicky blind.”

As much as the words hurt, Joe finds himself laughing, albeit a little forced. Because he knows that she’s trying. Andy’s angry at Booker too, very much so, and she is a warrior. And even in the lull of battle where revenge cannot be done through fighting and killing, Andy is more than capable of figuring out where to hit you when it hurts the most.

So Booker sees a hundred years to be separated from their family of five, only to be reunited when only four of them are left behind.

And the fact that Andy’s joking about it, it’s clear that she’s accepted her decision, and her fate.

“We just let him win,” Joe says, without any bite to it, and Andy just smiles. Then she moves in closer again and grabs him in a one arm hug, and he meets it, placing both of his arms around her waist.

“Don’t forget him when I’m gone,” Andy whispers, and Joe nods, without hesitation.

“Ugly French fuck is hard to forget,” he says, and Andy laughs, and Joe lets it wash over him, tightening his arms around her.

“I love you, sister,” he whispers, and Andy hums, pressing a kiss on his forehead.

“You sap,” she says, before pulling away, looking at him. “You still haven’t told me why.”

Joe blinks up at her. “Huh?”

Andy rolls her eyes, reaching over to tug at his ear. He yelps, growling at her. “Hey!”

“if you don’t forgive him, why connect him with Nicky?” she asks, and Joe sighs, throwing his hands up.

“I hurt him, Andy. I hurt him because of anger, and no matter how much that anger still burns in my heart, no matter how much it frustrates me to my core that it keeps me awake some nights, it holds no candle to the realization that said anger has driven my Nicky to feel so alone. And that is my doing and my fault, and it stems from the difference in which we want to deal with this familial betrayal. Theirs is pride in anger, and there is no one in this world that can make me put that aside other than the love of my life,” Joe says, smoothly, and confidently, because he speaks from the heart. A heart that has died again and again, only to beat for the same soul, forever.

Andy just smiles at him, and it’s soft, and genuine, so he continues.

“I was a fool to leave him behind when he was so vulnerable, due to my anger. And I knew…no matter what, he’ll always feel some sort of guilt for Booker, and if…I know it’s not what we agreed, but I do not regret my decision to connect them. My love for him kills any anger in my heart, and I will do anything to make him smile. I know he is a long way from being alright, all of us are, and it requires him checking up on his brother once in a while, no matter how angry it can make me, then I do not mind. It’s nothing compared to the pain I made him feel by letting him feel so alone,” he ends, taking a deep breath afterwards.

And Andy just continues to smile to him, and she’s leaning in to their hug again.

“This is why I know that you’ll get through this. That you will get through anything this world throws at you,” Andy says, and Joe cherishes this side of her. The side that accepts him wholeheartedly for who he is, and is not afraid to mock when he gets too much.

“Thank you,” he whispers into her hair, before kissing her forehead. Andy smiles then, and squeezes him.

“Are you feeling sappy enough to make more coffee for me?” she asks, batting her eyelashes and Joe snorts, rolling his eyes.

“There’s the mockery,” he says, before kissing her cheek and pulling away.

“I’ll pull out the good stuff,” he says and Andy gasps, sitting back on her chair.

“Turkish coffee?” she asks, and Joe smirks, laughing wildly when she cheers, almost childishly. “You have an addiction.”

“No, that’s baklava,” she says, in a matter of fact voice that is so like her many years ago, and Joe tries not to think of how one day, she wouldn’t be around. He turns his back, sniffling.

“That it is, Andy,” he mutters, glancing back at her, when she starts to clear the table of their now cold breakfast. He watches her for a moment, before clearing his throat, taking out the coffee from the pantry, and the ibrik from the counter top, always within his access.

“Thanks again boss,” he says, keeping his back turned, and is met with a spoon to the head. For the second time that afternoon, he yelps and looks back at Andy’s smirking face.

“I know Joe,” she says, before her eyes soften. “I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Andy loves Nicky and Joe and their love. And she protected and will protect it until she dies. 
> 
> Thank you for reading, please let me know what you think!


End file.
